


Death Is A Maze

by LizzieHopscotch



Category: Silver Kiss - Annette Curtis Klause
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Reincarnation, What comes after?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieHopscotch/pseuds/LizzieHopscotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is gone. Zoe is left. Will they ever meet again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The wind carried him away, and only one mortal would remember him.

He would be remembered in her thoughts, her heart, and soul.

When she graduated, she thought of how proud he would be.

When she went on her first date, she hoped he wouldn’t be mad at her for trying to move on.

When she experienced heartbreak, she imagined his cool caresses to comfort her.

And finally when she lay dying, she wondered if she would see him again.

His name was the last thing in her mind as her heart beat its last on her hospital bed.

Zoe died as she had lived.

Alone.

She hoped that whatever came next would be different, that she could finally experience that elusive happiness.

No such luck.

Instead her spirit found itself in a maze, the hedgerows towering over her like stern taskmasters. Sure age had left her like an old skin, and she no longer felt pain, but she was still alone. 

There was only one way for her to go.

Her steps through the corridors were timid, but grew progressively quicker.

For weren’t there prizes in mazes? 

So many dead ends and no clue as to where to go.

Tear tracks lined her face, and in desperation she cried out for him, to hear only an answering echo. 

She started to run, the maze twisting around her, desperation giving her strength. 

The strength to stand.

The strength to run.

The strength to find him.

The center of the maze was covered in crystal, and in the middle lay a sleeping figure. 

She approached him slowly, terrified he would disappear.

Her hand shook as she reached out to brush his cheek, his skin still cool to the touch. His inhuman beauty was unmarred by death, but his deep eyes were closed to her. 

She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips, before proceeding to shower his face in warmth.

Over and over she begged and pleaded for him to wake, her voice growing hoarse before she sensed change.

She was vanishing.

She grabbed hold of Simon, hoping to ground herself to him, but he was fading too. 

He was being taken from her again.

Zoe screamed out her pain and longing as she disappeared from the center of the maze.

At 3am in Princeton General hospital a small girl was born. Her cries were long and loud, the nurses cooed and spoke of healthy lungs.

On the other side of the Atlantic, a boy was also born. He was still and quiet, so quiet he was thought dead. 

Death is a maze.

But so is life.


	2. Chapter 2

Throughout her life certain things had never made sense.

An unsettled feeling was omnipresent.

Her dreams were always haunted by glimpses of blonde hair and silver eyes.

And every now and then she’d feel a tug in her chest, as if someone was calling her to follow them.

Sometimes she’d hear a haunting song, and others she’d hear nothing more than whispers.

She’d lived her whole life in New Jersey, but something told her to move, to run, to seek.

And that’s what bought her here, the airport, ticket to England clutched tightly in her hand.

He sat in the bar, watching the people move and dance around him.

He smelled the lust and longing in the air, saw the glazed eyes, and heard the hypnotic beat.

Women came up to him, touching him, whispering, but it always felt wrong, as though his body sought another’s touch.

He walked the streets at night, through the maze of alleyways and open spaces, always moving, always running, always seeking.

“Get off me!” the cry rang out on the night air, and he was struck by the richness of the voice.

A tug in his chest urged him forward, until he came face to face with a small dark woman struggling with a man twice her size.

A fierce urge to protect her took over him, and he was in front of the man before he could comprehend what happened.

Not his.

Mine.

“Hey, man, why don’t you scurry off elsewhere okay?” the repulsive drunk slurred. 

A sheen of red covered his vision as he smashed his fist into his nose. The drunk stumbled and fell, his eyes focusing on the blood dizzily.

He grabbed her arm and ran, elation coursing through him at the touch.

Was this who he sought?

He saved her. He wouldn’t hurt her right?

But his hand in hers felt so right that it had to be. 

The feeling of unease had melted in his presence.

They stopped under a street light, and she looked at her rescuer clearly for the first time.

His blonde hair was slightly disheveled, but his haunting eyes bored into her own with a frightening intensity.

“I-I’m Zoe,” she stuttered as his hand brushed against her hair lightly.

More. Her skin whispered.

“Simon,” he replied, his eyes never straying.

Life is maze.

And sometimes you find the prize.


End file.
